


I'm Bored......

by WildRedRose14



Category: Sherlock (BBC), Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Boredom, Dark Sherlock, Dark!Lock, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 01:11:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildRedRose14/pseuds/WildRedRose14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Moriarty gone, Sherlock has lost his nemesis.....the only man in the criminal underworld who could match him. </p><p>What is left for the Great Sherlock Holmes now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Bored......

In the darkness, there were two eyes. 

Pale, sapphire, delicate eyes, like cats; sharp, keen, and focused on a sleeping figure. 

John Watson rolled over, tugging at his duvet and mumbling in his nightmares. He woke with a start and instantly struck out at the intruder looming above him. 

Experienced hands firmly stopped the punch, as they had done many times before. 

"Jesus Christ Sherlock!!!" John let his head sink back into his all-too-soft pillow. Holmes let his arm drop back onto the bed and John rubbed his face, waking himself. "...what time is it...?" 

Sherlock didn't move, but just blinked. "3:46 am." 

"Christ....." John repeated as he hauled himself into a sitting position, then stretched with a yawn that nearly dislocated his jaw. "Can't this bloody well wait?!"  
He knew the answer already.  
"No." 

There was a pause and something made John look up at Sherlock. He could make out his silhouette in the gloom.....he was dressed.....standing stock still. 

The night outside was unusually calm, none of the usual London rain, and the road was unreasonably quiet.  
"Sherlock...." He trailed off. 

"Watson....." There was a horrible tone to Sherlock's voice, not shaken, or scared, or angry...just....different. Wrong. "...I'm.......I'm in trouble John." 

Then that feeling John had experienced more and more over the past few years boiled once again in his stomach, that nauseating mix of disappointment, fear, worry, and shame.

It was ages ago that he had noticed Sherlock's little trips out. He mentioned it, but never pushed it. Sherlock Holmes was a man of cause and consequence, whatever he was doing, he would have a reason. 

But when he came back injured, John hadn't been able to keep his mouth shut. 

That was the first time Sherlock had hit him. 

It was just once, a punch to the jaw which made him fall out of the bathroom where they had been argueing, after he had seen Sherlock's blood sliding down the smooth, white sink. Sherlock had fixed himself up and never mentioned it again. John had wanted to know more, of course, but this was Sherlock. 

Sherlock never hit him.  
He never came back to the flat with mysterious cuts and bruises.  
And he never had a terrible, dark look in his eyes sometimes.  
And the rise in deaths with talk of a serial killer didn't worry Watson.  
With Moriarty dead, there were not many criminals smart enough for this......it had been driving Sherlock stir-crazy in fact.  
At least, that's what he told himself. 

He studied Sherlock closer, sitting up and turning on his bed-side lamp.  
Blood dripped from Sherlock's coat sleeve. His signature blue scarf was held in a knot in his other hand. It too, was blood-stained.  
John flung himself out of bed, "Sherlock!!! What's wrong?! Are you alright?!" 

Sherlock lifted his gloved hands up and stared at them with some fascination, they were slicked with sickening red. Holmes' face seemed greyer than usual, his delicate, almost angelic face seemed....terrifying. His eyes were cold, detached.  
"Sherlock! Are you hurt?!" John reached out, hesitated and stood with his arms held akimbo, unsure of what to do. 

Sherlock looked at him, like he use to when he was high. Had he started on the drugs again? Please, no.....  
"Watson.....it's not mine."  
With those words, John knew what he had always feared deep down. Sherlock just kept staring at the blood....so much blood.....

Before John could think, he had burned the gloves and damning scarf and shoved Sherlock into the shower; Sherlock allowed himself to be led, like a child.  
John sat in the sitting room, of their normal flat, in a normal manner, with the sound of the shower going, and, even more faintly, sobbing.

What was he doing? 

What had Sherlock done? 

He waited for the call from Lestrade.  
It came at 6:30 am.

"One young female, about 21.....name: Caitlyn Lee." 

"Please John, you have to understand......" 

"Killed by strangulation by some soft material or other....." 

"....I can explain, please....just...." 

"Was stabbed repeatedly, but precisely.......throat was slit, a real bloodbath. We think a person with medical training may have done it....military perhaps." 

"She would have turned me in....there was no other way...." 

"We think she just walked in at the wrong moment, found the killer murdering her father-  
in-law...." 

"I had no choice...no choice...forgive me....."

"So you and Sherlock interested?" 

"John. Please....." 

 

The murder of Caitlyn Lee is a cold case. 

There are lots of cold cases of late....a new serial killer is loose.  
There seems to be no motive, no reasoning, and little mercy. 

John Watson realises that he knows the motive as he passes his flat-mate a mug of tea;

Boredom.

**Author's Note:**

> My first bash at Dark!Sherlock and poor John's reaction to it.  
> And first uploaded Sherlock piece, i do believe!
> 
> Also, this is one of my few pieces on my laptop that doesn't end up as Mary-Sue crap.....
> 
> Did this in maybes half an hour.  
> IDEK....I lost track, so sorry for any mistakes etc. 
> 
> And
> 
> I'm Bored....


End file.
